


Romione drabbles, a collection of fluffy and adorable moments

by Headcanonsandmore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adorable, Christmas Fluff, Crushes, Cute, Dare, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Kissing, Locked In, Mutual Pining, Romantic Fluff, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-01-13 06:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18463487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Headcanonsandmore/pseuds/Headcanonsandmore
Summary: This collection comprises various drabbles and one-shots about Ron and Hermione. None of them are really connected, but are all about our favourite two dorks being adorable around each-other.





	1. 'Part Of Your World'

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really a series, so much as something I'm going to be adding too whenever I write a new drabble about Romione. Hope you all like these drabbles!

‘ _Helllooooo…. Ron…. My gorgeous ginger man…_ ’

Hermione had ingested a few too many firewhiskies. Ron knew she wasn’t normally the type to drink excessively, but it was Christmas and she had said she ‘wanted to let her hair down’.

Now, Ron _quite liked_ Hermione’s hair as it was, and her hair was almost always down, but that was beside the point.

The point was that she was now giggling to herself whilst leaning into his shoulder. Which Ron had no complaints about at all. One of his favourite things in the world was cuddling with Hermione.

 They were both sat on the sofa, an empty bottle of Ogden’s Firewhisky on the table in front of them. Hermione seemed to have steadily worked her way through most of the bottle over the course of the past few hours. After they had finished dinner (a lasagne that was Ron’s speciality), they had decamped to the sitting room, cuddling up on the sofa and watching television.

Ron had ingested roughly the same amount of alcohol as Hermione had, but -unlike his inebriated girlfriend- Ron was six-foot-tall and muscular. Combined with being a Weasley (a family who all had incredibly high tolerances for alcohol), this meant that Ron felt virtually sober, although feeling very content as he put an arm around Hermione’s shoulder.

‘Ron… Ron… Ron… you know what we should do?’

‘‘Mione, I think you’re a _little_ far-gone for that sort of thing-’

‘Nooooo…’ Hermione exclaimed, her cheeks flushing. ‘I didn’t mean _that_ , you saucy devil! Although… although I like where your mind is going…. No…I meant… I meant we should… should watch a Disney film!’

‘A _what_ film?’

‘Oh, they’re great!’ The bushy-haired witch smiled giddily, wiping a bit of drool off her cheek with her wrist. ‘They’re films by this American…. American company; I… I used to watch them with my mum during the summer holidays.’

Ron chuckled, ruffling Hermione’s enormous mane of hair.

‘Sure, love. Hang on a sec…’ Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket, and pointed towards their video shelf. ‘Accio Disney film!’

Several video cassettes flew towards them, landing with a light thud on the coffee table. Ron leaned forward, and picked up a couple.

‘So… the… er, “Little Mermaid” or… “The Lion King”?’

~~~~~~~

 

 

‘SOMEDAY I’LL BE PART OF YOUR WOOOOOORRRRRRLLLLDDDD…..’

Ron smiled to himself as Hermione sang –albeit in a very slurred voice- the finale to the song. She’d presumably seen this film a lot over the years.

‘You… you know s’mth’ng, Ron?’

‘Yeah, ‘Mione?’

Hermione nuzzled into his side, looking slightly sheepish.

‘When I was a child… I… I used to wonder why I didn’t fit in… I always seemed… different compared to the other children…’

Ron gave her side a comforting squeeze, and kissed the top of her head.

‘I know, love. It’s okay.’

‘No….no, you didn’t let me finish….my mum bought me this video because… because she thought the mermaid was a bit like me… never really fitted in… like I belonged somewhere else…’

‘Awww, ‘Mione…. you belong in _both_ the wizard and muggle worlds.’

‘Well, I know that now… but… but I didn’t back then… I was a really lonely child… that’s what I always loved that song… f-forget it, I’m being silly…’

She blinked hurriedly, and turned to look away, but Ron cupped her face gently with his hand, so that she was looking him in the eye.

‘You’re part of _my_ world, ‘Mione…’ he said, stroking her cheek softly with his thumb. ‘You’re my _whole_ world.’

Hermione’s eyes glistened with tears as she smiled up at him, and she closed her hand around Ron’s, squeezing it tenderly.

‘And you’re my whole world too, Ron.’

It might have just been the alcohol talking, but –as Ron’s lips met Hermione’s- he knew that they both meant it.

 


	2. 'Truth Or Dare'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During her stay in Grimmauld Place before the start of fifth year, Hermione finds herself playing "Truth Or Dare" with Ron, Harry and Ginny. However, Ginny and Harry set the wheels in motion to get their two friends to be more open with each-other. Starting with truths, and leading to dares. Dares that involve being locked in cupboards until they... well, read on, and you'll see...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't entirely canon-compliant, but not exactly an AU either. Either way, Romione goodness. This was requested by a mutual on Tumblr; hope you all like it!

‘No way!’

‘It’s true!’

‘You really didn’t notice that Fred was dating Angelina? We saw them snogging behind a bookcase in the library!’

‘I thought they were just studying CPR!’

‘CPR? What’s _that_ when it’s at home?’

Hermione groaned, as Ron continued to giggle. The two of them were playing “truth or dare” in Ron’s room, along with Harry and Ginny. It was a cool summer evening in Grimmauld Place, after a long day of decontaminating the old house.

After yet another delicious meal cooked by Mrs Weasley, the four teenagers had been left to their own devices, although Sirius occasionally poked his head into the room with a plate of biscuits (which all seemed to have disappeared into the mouths of the two Weasleys).

Hermione was sat cross-legged on the floor, her already-enormous bushy hair made even larger by the humidity. A few feet away, the long gangly form of Ron Weasley was sprawled against the side of his bed.

Well, “gangly” didn’t seem like a fair descriptor anymore. Over the summer, Ron’s body had undergone an outstanding change. His torso had strengthened, becoming layered with muscle, and his arms and legs were now strong and firm. His t-shirts (inherited from Charlie) no longer hanged off him, but were now straining to maintain their stitching.

Ron had always been cute, but Hermione was now having serious trouble tearing her eyes away from him. He just looked so incredible; like a beautiful Roman statue brought to life. A ginger statue who kept appearing in Hermione’s dreams; dreams that made her profoundly grateful that Ginny (who happened to be presently sharing a bedroom with her) could not perform legilimency.

‘Do you just ignore everything that doesn’t surround school-work?’ Ginny chortled, abruptly pulling Hermione out of her thoughts.

The bushy-haired witch felt her face flush, from both the accusation, and the lingering effects of the sight of Ginny’s older brother.

‘Oh, come on, Gin,’ Ron said, ruffling his hair absentmindedly. ‘She’s not that bad.’

Hermione’s heart pounded painfully against her chest. Oh, who was she kidding? Try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself falling even more for Ron when he was as wonderful as he was. Even little things like this made her go all funny.

Oblivious to Hermione’s mental confusion, the two Weasley siblings continued arguing.

‘Oh, of course _you_ would say that.’

‘And what’s supposed to mean?’

‘Guess. Anyway, Ron; it’s your turn. Truth or dare?’

Apparently caught off-guard by his sisters’ sudden change in topic, Ron scratched his head in bafflement.

‘Er… truth, I guess.’

Ginny flashed a mischievous grin.

‘Did you _really_ take you three whole years to notice that Hermione was a girl?’

Hermione whipped her head round.

‘Ginny!’

‘What? You said it yourself, after all; I want to know if it’s true.’

Hermione’s eyes flicked hesitantly towards Ron. The redheads’ ears were flashing their tell-tale pink, and his vision had dropped down low, so that he wasn’t looking anyway near Hermione.

‘Of course I knew Hermione was a girl,’ he mumbled, playing absentmindedly with a loose thread on his jeans. ‘It would be weird if I didn’t, wouldn’t it?’

However, Ginny did not seem particularly enthused with this answer. Her brow furrowing, the short redheaded girl stared confusingly at her brother.

‘Then would you care to explain what exactly happened at the Yule Ball-’

‘Ginny, your turn now!’ Harry interrupted, bounding off the bed. ‘I dare you to slide down the bannister!’

‘What? Don’t I get a choice─?’

‘You forfeited that on your last go, remember?’ Harry jumped off the bed, and grabbed Ginny’s arm, pulling her towards the door. He then turned to speak to his two best friends. ‘We’ll be back in a bit; you two carry on.’

 

 

The door clicked shut behind them, and Hermione felt herself shiver slightly. She appreciated Harry diverting the line of questioning to make things less awkward for everyone, but how on earth was she supposed to be alone with Ron after that topic had been brought up?

She had spent the past six months desperately trying to forget the night of the Yule Ball. There were many reasons why. Many reasons as to why she had cried herself to sleep repeatedly whilst remembering that godforsaken dance.

And they all had to do with Ron Weasley. And the fact that he hadn’t even considered her an option.

‘H-Hermione?’

‘Yes?’

Ron’s eyes hesitantly met hers.

‘Did… did you really think I didn’t realise you were a girl?’

‘Er… well… yes.’ Hermione mumbled, feeling very self-conscious. Ron always avoided this topic like it was his worst fear. ‘I mean, you made that very clear at the Yule Ball that I was basically one of the boys in your eyes.’

Ron’s face creased in confusion.

‘What? I’ve always known you were a girl. Ever since I first met you.’

Hermione’s eyes widened.

‘Then… then why…’

The redhead looked shyly down at his feet, resuming his fidgeting with the stray thread on his hand-me-down jeans.

 ‘I… I just… didn’t want things between us to get so… _confusing_.’

Hermione stared at Ron, her pulse quickening frantically. What did he mean by that?

Confusing? What was he suggesting? That things were different between them now? That things had changed? What had changed? Had the way he saw her changed too? And ─if so─ changed into what?

But ─at that moment─ the door banged open, and their two friends returned, Ginny scowling slightly as she sat down.

‘You okay, Gin?’

Ginny pointed her thumb at Harry, who was sat down on the bed next to her.

‘This git almost made me fall─’

‘I said I was sorry!’

‘Harry, please don’t put my baby sister in danger.’

‘ _Baby_?’

Ginny scowled again.

‘Well, it’s your turn, Hermione; truth or dare?’

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Weasley girl; she had a sneaky suspicion that if she went for the former, Ginny would ask her something about Ron.

‘Dare.’

But Ginny didn’t seem disappointed by this response. Instead, her mouth perked up into a mischievous grin.

She leaned close to Hermione’s ear.

_‘I dare you to kiss Ron.’_

WHAT?!

Hermione’s face seemed to burn under her skin, and her pulse rapidly increased. Her? Kiss Ron? Ron Weasley? That was ridiculous! She couldn’t do that!

‘But─ what─ I─’

Before she could properly refuse, Hermione found herself being pulled to her feet by Ginny, whilst ─nearby─ Ron was being hoisted from the floor by Harry, who (whilst Ron was looking elsewhere) gave Hermione an encouraging nod.

_Oh, god; Ginny and Harry had planned this._

 

 

In what felt like seconds, Hermione and Ron had been shoved out the door, into a broom cupboard along the hall, and the door closed on them by their two friends.

‘Oy!’ Ron bellowed, hammering on the door with his fists. Through the dingy wood, Hermione could hear laughter. ‘What are you gits up to?’

Ginny’s laughing voice reached them.

‘You’ll find out soon enough!’

Ron turned to Hermione, looking very confused, and the bushy-haired witch felt her face flush again as the full weight of what was happening seemed to crash down upon her.

‘Hermione; are you okay?’

Hermione stared down at her feet, her hands awkwardly pushed into her jeans.

‘Ginny dared me to… to… kiss you.’

‘Oh.’

That reaction shocked Hermione out of her confusion, and she looked up at the redhead barely a few inches from her. Ron’s ears had bypassed pink and turned maroon. His face was unreadable, and he was staring resolutely down at his maroon-sock-clad feet.

‘I’m… I’m sorry, Ron,’ Hermione mumbled, feeling very awkward. ‘I… I understand. We… we don’t have to if you don’t want to… to…’

The redhead stared down at his feet, not saying a word.

‘I… I mean…’ Hermione continued, stumbling through her words. ‘If we did… well, it would make things confusing, wouldn’t it…’

Ron looked up from his feet, and into Hermione’s eyes. Her breath catching in her throat, Hermione remembered his words earlier. She had unconsciously echoed them.

The tall Weasley swallowed loudly, his Adams apple bobbing.

‘Well, I suppose things are already confused enough as they are…’

Oh, god. Ron didn’t want to kiss her.

Hermione felt tears well up in the corners of her eyes. This was it; the proof that Ron didn’t (and _never would_ ) see her in that way. Why had she ever believed that anyone could happen? Ron was a wonderful, kind, cheerful, gorgeous redhead with the body of a demigod, and she was a messy-haired swot with no social skills. She should have never held out hope. It was no good. Ron clearly only saw her as a friend, and honestly; who could blame him? There was never any chance that he would─

‘….so we’ve got nothing to lose.’

_Wait, what?_

Before Hermione knew what was happening, Ron had closed the few sparse inches between them, cupped his hand under her cheek, and pressed his lips to hers.

Hermione felt her brain stutter to a halt. He was kissing her. _Ron Weasley_ was kissing her. And out of his own volition, too!

His lips were awkward, and inexperienced, but ─then again─ so were hers. She’d never been kissed before; not like this.

She had been pecked on the lips by Viktor Krum randomly during the previous term, but she had pulled away immediately, her mind teeming with images, and with an enormous sense of guilt. She hadn’t wanted to kiss Viktor Krum. She had only ever wanted to kiss Ron Weasley. Which was what she was doing at the very moment, and it felt so good.

Her first proper kiss, and with the only boy she had ever wanted to kiss. Perfect.

Hermione pushed her lips closer to Ron, and her hands grabbed handfuls of his t-shirt as she pulled herself closer to him. The tall boy stopped stroking her cheek, and his hand travelled round to her back, pushing his body up against hers even closer. His touch seemed to burn with a wondrous ferocity through her t-shirt, causing a shiver to go up Hermione’s spine.

Yes. This was all that she had ever wanted. To feel Ron ─tightly pressed up against her─ strong and so wonderfully warm. Like a warm fire that was exclusively for her.

Ron’s lips parted ─almost reluctantly─ with hers, leaving the two of them gasping for breath. Hermione’s chest was heaving, and her palms were now covered in perspiration. Ron’s heavy breathing barely a few inches from her own face caused butterflies to explode in her stomach, and her blood to pound in her ears.

‘ _Wow…’_

Hermione smiled shyly up at Ron.

‘Wow, yourself.’

The redhead chuckled.

‘That was…’

‘Great.’

Ron’s cheeks flushed, looking adorably flustered.

‘R-really?’

Hermione nodded.

Ron’s eyes darted down to her mouth, and Hermione felt another shiver go up her spine.

‘We… we don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to…’ She stammered, her brain apparently turning into a pool of mush. ‘The dare was only for one kiss, after all. But…’

Ron leaned forward, so close that Hermione could hear his heart beating through his chest.

‘Do you… not want to?’

That did it.

Abandoning all pretences, Hermione grabbed Ron’s head in her hands, and pressed her lips against his.

The effect was instantaneous. Ron’s lips sent shockwaves through Hermione’s brain as they glued themselves to hers. Roving over the tender flesh of her lips, Ron pressed himself against her even further. Gasping, Hermione’s tongue pierced Ron’s mouth, sending shivers through her being as it did so. A low moan in Ron’s throat escaped, and the redhead responded to Hermione’s action in kind. One enormous freckled hand encircled her back, whilst the other tangled itself in her bushy hair.

Hermione’s legs seemed to lose their will to stand, and she felt herself go limp against the tall redhead. However, this didn’t seem to be a problem for Ron, who responded by pushing the two of them up against the wall. Her back now against the wallpaper, Hermione felt Ron’s hand begin to drop down… _down… oh, please… lower…_

But ─showing more self-restraint than Hermione was currently displaying─ Ron’s hand stopped abruptly at the top of her jeans. Why did he have to be a gentleman _now_ of all times?

Ron’s other hand slowly extricated itself from her enormous mane of bushy hair, and stroked her cheek softly with his thumb. Hermione’s eyes fluttered open.

Ron’s lips once again left hers, but he did not pull away this time. And his eyes were filled with such tenderness and warmth that it took Hermione’s breath away.

‘ _‘Mione…_ ’

Ron’s voice was husky and deep, sending yet more shivers up her spine.

‘Ron…’ She breathed, her heart hammering against her chest. ‘Ron… I-’

‘Dears; are you still stuck in there?’

The sound of the cupboard door swinging open reached their ears, and the two teenagers sprung apart sharply, eyes squinting at the sudden influx of light into the cupboard. Hermione was acutely aware of the sudden lack of close physical contact with Ron, and her heart ached painfully for its return.

A person appeared before them, carrying a stack of laundered clothes so tall that it blocked their vision entirely.

‘Oh, there you are, dears,’ Mrs Weasley said. ‘I heard that Ginny had locked you both in; good thing I was on my way up here.’

‘Y-yeah, thanks, mum,’ Ron stammered, clearing his throat. Hermione followed him out of the cupboard, scurrying past the Weasley matriarch as they did so.

‘It’s time for bed, so you best get to your own bedrooms. _Honestly, that sister of yours…_ ’

‘T-thank you, Mrs Weasley.’

Soon enough, the two of them stopped outside the bedroom that Ron shared with Harry. Hermione put her foot on the staircase leading up to the next floor.

‘Er… Hermione….’

Hermione cast a tentative look at the redhead, who was staring up at her from outside the door to his room.

‘Y-yes, Ron?’

The Weasley boy bit nervously on his bottom lip. The lips that Hermione had been kissing barely a minute before. A deep shiver went down her spine as she recalled the feeling.

‘I do see you as a girl, Hermione. Do… do you see me as a boy?’

Hermione felt her heart pound against her chest.

‘Yes. Yes, I do, Ron. _More so than before, actually_.’

The redheads’ mouth grew into a smile. That wonderful lopsided smile that Hermione had always admired.

‘Me too. G’night, Hermione.’

‘Goodnight, Ron.’

Heart still pounding, Hermione climbed up the staircase, and entered the bedroom she shared with Ginny.

The younger girl was lying on her bed, perusing a copy of ‘Quidditch Monthly’ that she had borrowed from Tonks. Hearing Hermione close the door, she looked up, and immediately sprung to her feet.

‘So?’

‘So… what?’

Ginny rolled her eyes.

‘Well, did you do it? Did you finally kiss my brother?’

Hermione chuckled to herself, before sitting down on her own bed. 

She heard Ginny sigh, presumably guessing that Mrs Weasley had found Ron and Hermione before they could carry out the dare.

Hermione smiled to herself, remembering the warmth of Ron’s body and the feel of his lips against hers.

She had certainly been wrong about Ron not seeing her as a girl. But -for possibly the first time in her life- Hermione felt very happy about getting something wrong. This was a mistake that she could _definitely_ enjoy having learned from.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, everyone; if you enjoyed it, please leave kudos and/or comments, and subscribe to this series!


	3. Assassin!Hermione meets Target!Ron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was requested by a tumblr anon a couple of months ago. It's what it says on the tin; Hermione is an (begrudging) assassin, and Ron is... well, you get the idea. Hope you like it!

It was just supposed to be a normal job.

Hermione Granger had never planned to be an assassin. In fact, she had planned to work in local government for her local London borough. Pencil-pushing stuff. Nothing morally-grey.

Yet here she was; tasked with taking out a threat to national security. She’d lost count of the times she’d told her superiors that she wasn’t qualified for this sort of thing, but none of them had listened. She supposed the government was lacking in people with critical thinking. Which made more sense that it should.

Her target was apparently on several government watch-lists. Involved in some sort of conspiracy to do… something. The case files about the target weren’t very clear on why they were so dangerous.

Hermione sat down in front of the window. She had been told to observe the target beforehand, so she could get a feel of his behaviour patterns. That way they could get a handle on when to ‘off’ him.

Hermione felt another strong bout of nausea course through her. The whole… assassination part of this was not agreeing with her. She felt like she going to vomit whenever she thought about the fact she was being asked to… kill someone.

~~~~~~

Deciding she needed some air, she got up and walked down to the street outside.

She then promptly collided with someone.

‘Ooof; sorry!’

Hermione looked up as the person offered their hand to help her back to her feet.

He was tall, gangling, with vivid red hair, and enormous blue eyes that seemed to sparkle.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Y-yeah,’ Hermione stammered, as he helped her to her feet. ‘Sorry; I didn’t look where I was going.’

‘Nah; my fault, entirely.’ The man said, flashing her a lop-sided smile.

‘Er…’ Hermione said, swallowing nervously.  ‘May I buy you a coffee to make up for it?’

The redhead blinked.

‘Oh… yeah, sure.’

A few minutes, the two were sat on bench, with two coffees between them.

‘So…’ The ginger asked. ‘Was there any reason you were so wrapped-up in your own thoughts that you couldn’t see all six foot two inches of me walking past you?’

Hermione chuckled. Good grief, this man was funny. And gorgeous. Definitely gorgeous.

‘Just worried about work.’

The redhead nodded in sympathy.

‘Let me guess; government job?’

‘Er… yes. How did you…’

The redhead grinned.

‘Just a lucky guess.’

Hermione felt her stomach explode into butterflies.

Oh, she wasn’t letting this catch get away.

‘Speaking of lucky guesses…. are you… doing anything later?’

The redhead’s ears went red.

‘Well, no… are you… asking me out?’

Hermione felt her cheeks flush.

‘Yes.’

The ginger man grinned again.

‘I’m not doing anything. Shall we say… seven this evening at the coffee shop we got these drinks from?’

Hermione smiled, nodding happily.

As the redhead wandered away, a thought seemed to strike him, and he called back to her.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Hermione. Hermione Granger.’

He smiled again. He really did have a gorgeous smile.

‘And you?’

‘Oh… I’m Ron. Ron Weasley.’

As he turned away, he failed to spot that Hermione’s smile had slid off her face.

Ron Weasley? Was this some kind of cruel joke?

She had just met her target; and she was going on a date with him that evening.

~~~~~~~

 

Hermione nervously drummed her hands on the table. She had arrived ten minutes early to the coffee shop, after spending the previous seven hours arguing with herself about whether it was morally right to go on a date with the man she had been assigned to assassinate.

It wasn’t. But -everytime she tried to argue herself out of the date- the image of Ron’s gorgeous smile appeared before her eyes. She was powerless.

‘Hi, Hermione!’

Ron had arrived, wearing a crisp shirt, trousers and waistcoat. He looked beyond attractive, and Hermione had to snap herself out of her daze so she could answer his call.

‘H-hello, Ron!’

He sat down in the seat facing her, smiling cheerily.

Within no time at all, Hermione quickly forgot that Ron was her target. He talked about his family (poor but large), his best friend Harry, and his job. He said he worked for a special branch of the police, but he seemed very vague about the details.

‘It’s kind-of a specialised branch… very hush-hush.’

‘So… you’d have to kill me if you told me about it?’

Ron laughed.

‘I hope not. I’d hate to kill such a gorgeous woman.’

Hermione felt herself blushing.

‘Oh, shut up,’ she spluttered. ‘I’m not that good-looking. ’

‘Well, from my perspective, you are.’

‘But you are gorgeous, yourself; you’re biased.’

It was Ron’s turn to blush.

‘You… you think I’m gorgeous?’

Hermione nodded, quite enjoying the flustered and pleased expression on Ron’s face.

‘Thank you.’ He grinned, running a hand through his lovely red hair. ‘Hermione… do you…’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA!’

Before Hermione knew what was happening, all hell had broken loose around them. Several oddly-dressed men had released what looked like green fireworks, which exploded everywhere, ricocheting off the walls. Ron had thrown himself over the table, pushing Hermione down out of harm’s way.

‘Ron, what the-?’

‘HERMIONE, STAY DOWN!’ Ron bellowed, now pulling a thin wooden stick from the pocket of his waistcoat, which he then pointed towards the weirdly-dressed men stood in the doorway to the shop. ‘PETRIFICUS TOTALUS! STUPIFY! STUPIFY!’

The stick in Ron’s hand exploded like a gun, sending what looked like red fireworks towards the men, who attempted to dodge but were hit nonetheless. They all crashed to the ground.

Ron let out a deep breath, and lowered his arm. He turned to Hermione, who was staring at him, her mouth open.

‘Hermione, are you okay?’ He asked, his voice tender and soft. ‘Sorry I yelled. Did… did you get hit by anything?’

‘I’m- I’m fine,’ she stammered, clambering to her feet. ‘What- what was that?’

‘That was magic.’

‘M-magic?’

‘Yes, and these’- Ron pointed to the strange men, now lying incapacitated on the floor- ‘are several dark wizards who were attempting to infiltrate the British government.’

‘Hang on,’ Hermione said. Those faces looked familiar. ‘These… these are the superiors who pushed me into making you my target.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me.’

‘Yes, it- wait… you mean you _knew_ I was being forced to assassinate you?’

Ron gave her an apologetic smile.

‘Sorry. Don’t worry; I was going to stop them before they made you carry out the assassination. Typical dark wizards; getting innocent people to do their dirty work. But then they decided to go right ahead with my assassination; they couldn’t have you figuring out I wasn’t actually a threat. Good thing none of them had good aim.’

Hermione felt her heart swirl with all this confusing information. But what next came out of her mouth was something very mundane-sounding.

‘So… you’re not a threat to national security?’

Ron shook his head.

‘Not as far as I’m aware.’

The redhead then looked sheepish.

‘Listen… Hermione….’ He looked her awkwardly in the eye, looking very sorry for himself for lying to her. ‘If you never want to see me again, I can understand why… usually, when non-magic people come into contact with wizards, we memory-charm them so they don’t remember us. I… I can do that for you, if you want. It’ll be like… like you never even met me.’

Hermione went silent for a minute.

‘No, thanks,’ she said. Ron didn’t try to hide the smile that appeared on his face. ‘You still owe me a proper date, remember?’

‘I do remember.’ Ron chuckled. ‘How about that Italian restaurant three streets away sound?’

Hermione smiled.

‘That sounds good.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! If you enjoyed it, please leave kudos and/or comments!


	4. An Evening to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot is based on what I think might have happened on the night of Slughorn's Christmas Party if Ron and Harry had never discovered Ginny and Dean kissing. In this timeline, Ginny never revealed the bombshell about Krum kissing Hermione, and as a result, Ron didn't think Hermione's invitation was just-as-friends, and never dated Lavender. Instead, this timeline has Ron going to the Christmas Party with Hermione. Hope you like it!

Hermione Granger rubbed her arm nervously.

It was the night of Professor Slughorn’s Christmas party, and she was sat waiting in the Gryffindor Common Room, at her usual table. The students sat in the seats around her were eyeing her enviously. This was one of the larger downsides of the so-called “Slug Club”; it caused so much hostility amongst the students. And Hermione wasn’t exactly everyone’s best friend to begin with.

Which you could definitely _not say_ about the figure that had just emerged from the boys dormitory steps.

‘Hi, Hermione.’

Ron Weasley’s eyes twinkled as he approached her, his dark blue robes contrasting beautifully with his freckles.

Hermione’s mouth suddenly felt very dry, and she had to cough before she responded.

‘H-hello, Ron,’ she stammered, flustered. ‘You look… er…’

‘Oh, yeah,’ Ron smiled shyly, indicating his new robes. ‘Got these from Fred and George earlier this year. Makes a nice change from...’

He trailed off. The unspoken mention of the Yule Ball briefly fell like a shadow over them. But Ron coughed loudly, and spoke again, his ears turning pink as he did so.

‘You… you look great, Hermione.’

The bushy-haired witch struggled to contain her smile. She had ordered new dress robes from Madam Malkins a few weeks previously, and was rather pleased with them. She rarely dressed up like this. But she was going to a party with Ron, and she wanted to look nice. Or rather, she wanted him to see her looking nice. Which he was clearly doing now.

‘Th-thank you.’

‘No worries. Shall… shall we get going, then?’

‘Yes. Let’s.’

As the two of them left the common room, Hermione marvelled at how they had managed to get to this point. She had delivered to Ron quite possibly the lamest invitation to a party ever (angrily, in the middle of Herbology class), but he had still accepted.

Granted, his mood hadn’t been great recently, but he had understandably been irritable due to Quidditch. But he had delivered that amazing performance at the last match, and his mood had drastically improved afterwards. Hermione was so proud of him; he was finally seeing how amazing he was. That he shouldn’t assume the worst about his own abilities. Maybe she should have been more understanding about that in the past, but she was going to make up for it now. Clearly, Ron enjoyed her company enough to accept her invitation, and that surely meant something. Maybe he didn’t see her in quite the same way she saw him (she surely couldn’t be that lucky), but what was happening between them certainly wasn’t platonic anymore. Maybe… just maybe… Hermione could hold out some hope.

‘Isn’t Harry going with Luna to this?’

‘O-oh, yes,’ Hermione said, emerging from her own thoughts. ‘I think he’s meeting her in the entrance hall.’

‘It was nice of him. To ask her, I mean.’

‘Yes, I suppose. I just hope she doesn’t go on about crumple-horned snorkacks or whatever they are…’

Ron chuckled, grinning lopsidedly at her.

‘Don’t tell me you _still_ don’t like Luna.’

‘I do!’ Hermione exclaimed. ‘After what happened at the ministry, how could I not? It’s just… well, we’re very different people. She’s a little too open-minded, and I’m…’

‘Close-minded?’

If anyone else had called her that, Hermione would have felt insulted. But this was Ron, and there was no malice to his words. He grinned affectionately down at her, and the two of them exchanged a smile.

‘Well, maybe a little bit,’ Hermione said, trying not to giggle.

‘Yeah, but you do it magnificently.’

‘I try.’

Ron winked at her, causing a pleasant shiver to go up her spine, and she felt her cheeks burn again.

Soon enough, the sounds of party-goers reached their ears, and they arrived at the office of Professor Slughorn, which had been magically expanded to host the party. Hermione was vividly reminded of something from a television show of her childhood, but decided not to mention it, as Ron (having not grown up in the muggle world) didn’t even know what TARDIS stood for.

After squeezing their way through the bustling crowd just inside the door, Ron and Hermione made their way over to a large table covered in food.

Feeling peckish, Hermione filled her plate, and turned to Ron, expecting him to have his mouth full with food already.

However, Ron was instead pouring her a goblet of pumpkin juice. He paused, casting a confused look at Hermione as she goggled at him.

‘What?’

‘You’re… pouring me a drink.’

A slightly hurt expression formed on Ron’s face.

‘I’m not a complete ogre, you know.’

‘N-no! That’s not what I meant!’ Hermione spluttered. ‘I just… I mean… thank you. That’s very sweet of you.’

Ron’s expression relaxed slightly and he passed the goblet over to her. Their fingers touched slightly as he handed it over, making Hermione’s stomach flip.

‘Thanks.’

‘No… no problem,’ Ron mumbled, the tips of his ears going pink.

Why was Ron so flustered? Did he… was it possible he also⸺

‘Ah, Miss Granger!’

Slughorn had joined them, his enormous belly preceding him into view. Hermione swallowed quickly, trying to get over the flusteredness that had just occurred between her and Ron.

‘Hello, Professor. Thank you for the invitation, by the way.’

The potions masters waved his hand airily.

‘It was no problem at all, my dear. Can’t have the best witch in the year kicking her heels back in Gryffindor tower, can we?’

Hermione smiled, feeling a little embarrassed.

‘I hope you have a good time this evening. You and… your friend Rupert.’

Hermione bit down hard on her lip to stop herself getting angry. Professor Slughorn had something of an inability to remember Ron’s name, and it annoyed her immensely.

‘This is Ron Weasley, professor.’

‘Ah, Weasley, you say?’ Slughorn cast a half-interested eye over Ron. ‘Relation of Ginny Weasley, I expect. Quidditch talent seemed to run in that family.’

Hermione’s eyes brightened. Finally, she was getting somewhere. Ron was -after all- a  brilliant Quidditch player, and⸺

‘Have you ever thought of applying for one of the house teams, Weasley? You never know, Ginny might give you a few pointers.’

A shocked and hurt look appeared on Ron’s face, and Hermione felt an angry rage ignite in her heart.

‘Professor, Ron has been the Gryffindor keeper for the past two years. He helped win the Quidditch Cup for⸺’

‘Did he really? Well, good for you, Rupert.’ Slughorn interrupted, not taking the slightest bit of notice of what Hermione was saying. ‘Miss Granger, I must go; hosting duties wait for no man.’

And with that, Slughorn waddled away towards a large cluster of people nearby.

‘Of all the cheek!’ Hermione exclaimed, angrily glaring after the potions master. ‘How dare he?! I’ve got a good mind to go over there and continue what I was saying⸺’

But at that moment, Ron grabbed Hermione by the hand, quickly leading her away (leaving both their goblets and plates at the table), and pulled her into an alcove that was partially obscured by a curtain.

‘Ron, what are you⸺’

‘McLaggen.’

Peering through the curtain, Hermione could see the brutish face of the wire-haired boy scanning the crowd.

‘I was rather hoping he wouldn’t turn up.’

‘So was I, to be honest. He’s a git.’

‘Language, Ron.’

‘Well, it’s true! I’ve seen the way he stares at girls like they’re pieces of meat. Thinks he’s Merlin’s gift to women. Like he thinks they can’t resist his charm.’

‘Well, then; I’m not sure why he keeps pestering me, then.’

Ron’s head snapped round to look at her.

‘What are you talking about? Last time I checked, you were a girl.’

‘Well, I know _that_.’ Hermione said. ‘But I’m just _me_ , after all. I’m not a supermodel or anything; just plain old Hermione Granger.’

A curious look came into Ron’s eyes. Almost like he was affronted.

‘What? Where did you get that idea?’

‘Excuse me? You think I _should_ have McLaggen ogling me?’

‘Of course not!’ Ron exclaimed, looking repulsed by the very idea. ‘McLaggen’s a perv. And  a creep. What I meant was… well, that doesn’t mean… that you’re just plain old Hermione.’

‘But I _am_ just plain old Hermione.’

‘Not to me.’

Hermione’s mouth promptly fell open.

‘What? You think I’m joking?’ Ron said, looking a little hurt at her reaction. ‘You’re smart, and funny, and kind. And -yes- you can drive me up the wall sometimes but I like that about you. I… I just… I think you’re amazing.’

‘R-really?’

Ron’s face had (by now) turned bright red, but his eyes met hers, full of open, earnest honesty. His usual lopsided smile grinned down at her, and the world around them seemed to disappear.

‘To me? Yeah.’

That did it.

Hermione’s resolve crumbled into a million pieces. Before she knew what she was doing, she had thrown her arms around Ron’s neck, and kissed him full on the mouth.

His lips were soft, and sweet against hers, and she could feel the slight stubble on his face as she pressed herself against him.

Hermione felt Ron startle against her, and she began to panic. Had she misunderstood completely? Had she destroyed their friendship? Maybe Ron didn’t want this. Maybe he was just being a good friend when he said those things. What if⸺?

Her brain stopped responding, because (at that moment) Ron pressed his lips firmly against hers, and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted her off her feet. All of her synapses seemed to disengage, replaced by an enormous sense of euphoria. Ron Weasley was kissing her! She’d kissed him, and he was kissing her back! More than that, he was full-on snogging her!

Hermione’s stomach fizzed as she pressed herself tighter to Ron, feeling his heartbeat through his chest. His strong arms were wrapped around her waist, and she could feel his muscles bulging under her touch.

Hermione felt Ron move, so that she was supported against the wall. One of his hands grabbed hold of her thigh, and the other became lost in her hair, which was rapidly coming out of its neat bun. Ron’s lips hungrily roamed her lips, and Hermione felt herself moan softly against him.

The party blurred into oblivion beyond the curtain. There was only the two of them; pressed against each-other in the half-light.

_Oh, thank Merlin…_ Hermione thought, as she continued to cling to the gorgeous ginger boy she loved _… Finally…._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you liked this one-shot! Please leave kudos and/or comments!


	5. 'Emerging Feelings'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a cute little drabble/ficlet that I thought up the other day. Set during the summer between third and fourth year, in the time Hermione was staying at the Burrow. Expect fluffiness, blushing faces, and -given the title- emerging feelings. Hope you like it!

Hermione Granger stumbled through the fireplace of the Burrow, trailing soot.

‘Hermione, dear; hello!’

‘Mrs Weasley!’

Hermione smiled as the redheaded matriarch pulled her into a big hug. The Burrow’s kitchen was filled -as usual- with the sounds of potatoes being peeled, pots being washed, and chickens clucking outside the door.

‘Have you been enjoying your summer so far, Hermione?’

‘Oh, yes, very much so!’ The bushy-haired witch grinned. ‘Thank you so much for inviting me to stay, by the way!’

‘It’s our pleasure, dear. Ron should be down here soon; he’s been talking about nothing except your visit for the past few weeks, after all…’

Hermione felt her stomach make a weird lurch. It had been doing that for a while now, whenever Ron’s name was mentioned. It had started at the end of second year, and had only grown stronger over time.

At first she had dismissed it as a symptom of her petrification, but (after the summer break between second and third year) it had clearly not dissipated. It had made third year especially confusing, even discounting the brief time that Ron and herself were not speaking. That had been more painful than she would like to admit. She had always understood that she wasn’t an easy person to get along with. She hadn’t ever had friends before she was at Hogwarts, after all. But being friends with Harry and Ron had been a welcome change. Which made it all the more upsetting when neither of them had been speaking to her.

Harry and Ron were a package deal; they had always been inseparable, even from the first day of first year. Hermione understood that –when push came to shove- she was still something of an outsider in their little trio. The only girl. The only bookworm. It didn’t take a lot of effort to see that she didn’t fit in with the two boys easily.

However, their reconciliation had shown that -while they might have had outward differences- the three of them really did work best as a trio. And she was so happy that they were friends again.

She had wondered at the time why her estrangement from Ron seemed to hurt her more than her estrangement with Harry had done. After all, they were both her best friends, so why was she more upset over Ron not speaking to her? Yes, she had been upset about not being friends with Harry, but -by contrast- the idea of not being friends with Ron had felt like a dagger pushing against Hermione’s heart.

Well, Ron clearly didn’t think Hermione was the outsider. Because he’d invited her to his house. Although she had never mentioned it, Hermione had always been slightly jealous of Harry for staying at the Burrow. She knew it was silly to think that way (Harry’s relatives were awful people, by the sounds of it), but it just seemed to hammer home the fact that Ron was clearly closer with Harry than with her.

But this was different. He had invited her - by way of owl- to stay at the Burrow for a large part of the summer. Hermione wasn’t really all that bothered about the Quidditch World Cup, but it was a good opportunity to spent time with Ron. And Harry. Obviously, Harry would be turning up later on.

It wasn’t as if she was just hoping to spend time alone with Ron. That would be ridiculous. He was her friend. It was probably just that Hermione had never had friends before, and therefore didn’t know yet how to handle things.

Of course. She was Ron’s friend. Staying at his house.

Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts, however, as the door of the kitchen banged open.

‘Hermione! Hi!’

Before Hermione quite knew what was happening, Ron had crossed the kitchen and pulled her into a hug. Goosebumps erupted up her arms, and she was suddenly aware that she was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

_Oh, dear…_

Hermione could feel Ron’s chest pressed up against her, and her stomach seemed to flip over. Had Ron’s torso always been that well defined? His body heat was so overwhelming, and his distinctive _Ron_ smell filled Hermione’s nostrils.

The feel of Ron’s body pushed up against her own seemed to burn through her clothes. Although it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. It was –however- simultaneously wonderful and terrifying.

‘R-Ron! Hello!’

The redhead didn’t seem to notice Hermione’s flustered expression as he pulled away. Although his ears seemed to turn slightly red. Probably just a trick of the light.

‘It’s great to see you, Hermione.’ Ron said, before a confused expression clouded his face. ‘Wait… are you okay?’

Hermione nodded vigorously. She couldn’t dare tell him that the feel of his body against hers had sent shockwaves through her entire being, and reduced her usually-teeming brain to an incomprehensible mush.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he would ever see her in the same way, anyway.

‘Yes, Ron.’ Hermione said, sadly as he picked up her suitcase. ‘I’m fine. Same old Hermione.’

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

‘CANNONBALL!’

Hermione promptly dropped her book in surprise. Ron had appeared by the pond, wearing only a pair of swimming shorts, and promptly jumped into the water, his legs tucked up in front of him.

‘Shove off, Ron!’ Ginny moaned, spitting water out of her mouth nearby. ‘Hermione doesn’t want to see your freckled excuse for a chest!’

Ron emerged, grinning and brushing his long hair out of his eyes.

‘Sorry, Hermione,’ he said, turning apologetically to the bushy-haired witch sat on the side. ‘Did I make you drop your book?’

Swimming over to her, Ron dived again, emerging with the now-soaked book in his hand. His blue eyes glinted like orbs in the sunlight.

‘My bad,’ he said, handing it over to her. ‘You can get mum to get the water off if you like.’

Hermione took a couple of seconds to respond. Her brain seemed to have short-circuited. A shirtless Ron Weasley was staring up at her, his wet hair pushed to the side, water trickling down his chest, and …. since when did Ron have _muscles_?

‘Y-yes, thank you, Ron!’ Hermione stammered, taking the book hurriedly and standing up. ‘I’ll-I’ll go do that now!’

‘Oh, okay.’ Ron said, looking a little confused by her reaction. ‘Dunno why you’re reading a book instead of swimming; it’s lovely in the water.’

Hermione didn’t answer. The thought of standing in front of Ron wearing nothing but a swimming costume suddenly seemed impossibly brave. What on earth was wrong with her? This was just _Ron_ , after all.

Ginny (a shrewd expression on her face) hurriedly climbed out of the pond, and wandered into the house with Hermione.

‘Hermione?’

‘Y-yes, Ginny?’

‘Could you -by any chance- explain why the sight of my brothers’ chest seemed to reduce you to a stammering wreck?’

Hermione felt her cheeks glow. _Oh, god; Ginny had noticed!_ That meant Ron had probably noticed her weird behaviour as well! She didn’t think she could stand the thought of him teasing her over it- wait, no; that was ridiculous. Ron would never do that. He wasn’t the sort of person who’d maliciously taunt someone over something like this. Fred and George? Definitely. But Ron wouldn’t. He was a sweet boy. A little prattish at times, yes. But he was still a sweet, kind-hearted boy. Maybe that’s why she liked him so much-

Wait, what was she even thinking? Yes, of course, she _liked_ Ron. He was her friend, after all. But -then again- why had she reacted so weirdly⸺?

‘Oh, you _fancy_ him!’

Ginny had clearly read the expression that was no-doubt plastered all over Hermione’s face. A shiver went up Hermione’s spine, and her stomach seemed to flip over. That wasn’t possible! It just wasn’t possible that she could…. that she could…

‘W-what?’

‘You fancy Ron!’ Ginny exclaimed, in a hushed tone (the house- after all- was very small and very busy). ‘You fancy him!’

‘W-what? N-no, I don’t⸺’

‘Ooooh, you do!’ Ginny continued, looking terribly excited. ‘That would explain why you’ve been staring at him so much!’

Staring at him? Has she really been doing that? She was certain that she hadn’t been. But -then again- how could she be sure? It wasn’t as if she was keeping track of how long she looked at Ron every day. Surely, she wasn’t looking at him more than she looked at -say- Harry.

But she _didn’t_ look at Harry in that way. Harry was like a brother to her. But Ron … Ron on the other hand… was something very different. Yes, he was her best friend. But not in the same way as Harry was. _Did she… did she really….?_

Impossible. It was impossible, surely.

‘I… I don’t stare at Ron!’

‘Couldn’t have fooled me. As soon as he dived into the pond, you looked like he’d just snogged you!’

 _S-s-snogged her?_ Hermione’s face seemed to grow warmer and warmer. Her brain rapidly began to construct scenarios where a topless Ron kissed her passionately on the lips, next to a pond that was mercifully free of his redheaded siblings.

She really had completely lost her mind.

‘You’re… you’re being ridiculous, Ginny!’ Hermione exclaimed, striding off to the kitchen with her nose held high. ‘Don’t be so silly!’

However -as Mrs Weasley performed a drying charm on the soaked book- Hermione couldn’t help but feel her heart continue to pound as she remembered the way Ron had emerged from the pond. A shiver went up her spine.

_Oh, god, what was happening to her?_

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Eventually (after several hours of struggling to relax beside the pond with her book) the heat became too much, and Hermione reluctantly decided to go for a swim. That water looked so inviting that she couldn’t help herself. Ron Weasley’s presence be damned, she was going to cool off in the water.

Within the confines of the room she was sharing with Ginny, Hermione pulled on the swimming costume she had bought. It was only a simple dark blue, one-piece affair. Nothing fancy. Hermione didn’t feel she had much to offer in the way of physicality.

Emerging from the Burrow, Hermione walked through the garden towards the pond. She unwrapped her towel from around herself and placed it gently by the waters end.  

Ron -of course- didn’t notice. He was lying on the grass nearby, his arm over his eyes as he relaxed in the sun. Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about that; did she want him to look at her? And -if so- why? It wasn’t as if she wanted to see the disinterest on his face.

Sighing slightly to herself, Hermione dived.

The water was fresh and cool; a welcome relief from the heat. Diving under the surface, Hermione felt herself relax. Yes, it was likely that Ron would never see her in the same way she was beginning to see him. But -then again- she was a bookworm with bushy hair and a childlike body. Why would a handsome redheaded boy possibly see her in a way that wasn’t just platonic?

It was good that she was under water, because Hermione’s eyes felt distinctly wet at that moment in time.

Hermione broke the surface, and swept her hair away from her face.

That was when she noticed Ron was staring at her, his eyes wide and… were his ears turning red again?

Ginny tried not to giggle as Hermione pulled herself out of the water, and began drying her hair. Her enormous bushy hair was always tangled and messy from the water, but Hermione found it difficult to care.

She sat down on the grass next to Ron, who promptly did a double take and coughed loudly.

‘Ron? Are you okay?’

‘E-er…. y-yeah, fine!’ Ron stammered, not quite looking Hermione in the eye.

Ginny giggled from the other side of the pond.

Hermione tried not to smile, as she played with a blade of grass. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the blush slowly extending from Ron’s ears down his neck.

_Maybe she wasn’t the only one who was beginning to notice different feelings, after all…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! If you enjoyed it, please leave kudos and/or comments. If you're enjoying the drabbles of this series so far, consider subscribing to the series so you can be notified immediately when it's updated.


	6. GOF Missing Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quite little ficlet this time; a short missing moment from GOF, set shortly after Hermione recieved hate mail due to Rita Skeeter's slanderous article about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally requested by my Tumblr friend @acciocuteboysplease, so thank you to them!

‘Come on, Ron; it could be worse. At least your fingers aren’t full of pus!’

Ron’s eyes flicked down to Hermione’s hands, and his prior frustration at his poverty dissipated as his brow creased in sympathy. The bushy-haired witch was clearly having difficulty cutting her portion of beef.

‘I hate that Skeeter woman!’ Hermione exclaimed, dropping her knife and fork onto her plate. Her heavily-bandaged fingers were clearly too sore to hold her cutlery with. ‘I’ll get her back for this if it’s the last thing I do!’

Without thinking, Ron reached forward, pulled her plate towards him, and began to cut up her food.

‘You’re right, Hermione. Maybe we can talk to McGonagall about screening your mail from now on, so you don’t get any more hate mail like that.’ Ron said, as he focused on cutting the beef and potatoes into bitesize chunks. ‘Skeeter is always causing trouble, and it’s not right that she can get away with slandering you like this…I swear, I’ve got a good mind to send Skeeter some Bubotuber pus and see how _she_ likes it… ’

As the redhead continued his tirade against Rita Skeeter, Hermione’s face grew redder and redder. Her eyes -now wide and open- seemed unable to leave Ron’s face.

‘Anyway… there you go, Hermione,’ ⸺Ron finished cutting up Hermione’s food, and pushed the plate back across to her⸺ ‘You’ll still have to use one hand, but you won’t have to cut anything up now…’

 It was only at this point that he noticed Hermione staring at him.

‘What?’ Ron asked, looking confused. ‘Sorry; did I not cut them up small enough?’

‘N-no, they’re fine!’ Hermione stammered, looking very flustered. ‘T-thank you so much, Ron.’

Ron shrugged.

‘No worries.’

Ron turned to Harry, and began to talk about whether they could complain to McGonagall about the letters Hermione had been sent. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione continuing to stare at Ron. Her eyes were filled with an immense tenderness as she slowly began to eat the food that the redhead had so carefully cut up for her. Ron probably didn’t even realise the significance of that small act of kindness he had taken, but it meant the world to Hermione.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, everyone! If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment and/or kudos.


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